


Crossroads

by Bazylia_de_Grean



Series: Adra Bán [4]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Dunryd Row, Gen, mentions of Lady Webb and Thaos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 16:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13438350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazylia_de_Grean/pseuds/Bazylia_de_Grean
Summary: It is a beautiful sunny morning, green leaves rustling in the gentle wind, and birds are chirping, and the sky is the clearest blue Eidis has seen in months... and yet she is anxious. There is no one following them and no one lurking in the shadows, and yet she feels watched... Ah, yes. Another cipher. Really, she should have thought of it earlier.Eidis turns her mind’s eye to take a closer look... and is brushed away, firmly but almost politely. And there is no indication of any threat whatsoever. Not a Leaden Key agent, then? No ordinary hedge cipher could... Ah. Of course.





	Crossroads

**Author's Note:**

> (prompt: tail)

Dyrford is very quiet – too quiet, after Defiance Bay, frighteningly quiet after all the fighting and shouts and the roar of fires still echoing in Eidis’ mind with painful clarity familiar to every cipher. In a city, in a maze of streets and buildings, it was easier to be on guard, to consider every shadow a threat. But in a village like Dyrford, stretched out lazily under the open sky like a napping cat, it is almost instinctual to breathe more deeply, more easily, to loosen the hold on a weapon. And _that_ is the real danger.

Eidis is lying on the bed in her room in the Dracogen Inn, watching the starry sky through an open window. It is careless, she knows, she is well aware of that; every time as much as a shadow moves near the patch of moonlight on the floor, she tenses, focusing instantly, should she have to use her mind to disarm a foe. And then she takes a breath, relaxing her muscles and mind, and thinks. She has spent many a sleepless night wondering how it would be if Thaos bothered to find and kill her. Would she stand a chance? Would she even fight? And it only got worse after she saw Lady Webb’s last memory. But now she wonders about different things. Would he be businesslike about it, like when they met in the Ducal Palace? Or would he be... considerate? Can it even be called like that? It seems Lady Webb had thought so – and that no matter what he did, he respected her. Eidis knows such musings are a weakness, but she cannot stop, not when that memory still resounds in her mind.

She curls up, with her back to the window. There are some nights when she would prefer it that way. She never wanted the responsibility, the big decisions, everything she is now entangled in. All she ever hoped for was a quiet life... But more and more often it seems that all she can dream of now is a quiet death. On nights like this, when the sky is bejewelled with stars and the moon is bright, and she looks at it but there is just emptiness and weariness in place of amazement and wonder, when she looks but can no longer see their beauty – on nights like this Eidis thinks she might be grateful for such a small blessing. She only prays that when the times comes, she would be able to ask a few questions before it is done.

She sighs and shakes her head. So much hassle and so many unwanted obligations that the world insists should be called honours, when all she wants is just some answers. So very little. And, apparently, still too much.

* * *

She wakes before everyone else and closes the window, first checking the room and making sure all her belongings are intact. What she did was risky, but not entirely foolish – it is not really possible to sneak upon a cipher who is expecting danger; and eyes are not the only device people can use to watch.

When she goes downstairs, she finds her companions in the common room, where they are trying to enjoy breakfast. They are all still shaken by the riots, the flames – Edér does not speak of it, but she wonders if that reminds him of the war and of Waidwen and of his lost brother and lost god, and of the candles burning in the forsaken temple – they are shaken but slowly recovering. And gods, they are all determined; none as much as Aloth, perhaps. The atmosphere between the elf wizard and the rest of the group is still tense. Eidis is... a little wary, but not really concerned; she had sensed no danger from him even before the great reveal, and it can mean that he would not have been able to go through with killing her if he had to, that Iselmyr would have stopped him, or simply that he would have never dared to do it when it was him against a whole group. And she is certain that a thought is quicker than a spell, and surprise is not a suitable trap for a mind that never sleeps.

They are recovering, Sagani being her calm and practical self, Kana humming cheerfully and Edér trying to defeat troubles with jests and mostly succeeding. It is a beautiful sunny morning, green leaves rustling in the gentle wind, and birds are chirping, and the sky is the clearest blue Eidis has seen in months... and yet she is anxious. There is no one following them and no one lurking in the shadows, and yet she feels watched... Ah, yes. Another cipher. Really, she should have thought of it earlier.

Eidis turns her mind’s eye to take a closer look... and is brushed away, firmly but almost politely. And there is no indication of any threat whatsoever. Not a Leaden Key agent, then? No ordinary hedge cipher could... Ah. Of course.

She has barely finished forming the thought when the inn door open and a small hooded figure walks in purposefully. Sagani whistles to call Itumaak to her side, Edér and Pallegina reach for their weapons, but Eidis raises her hands to calm them down and slowly gets up.

“I was hoping you survived unscathed, Lady Eidis,” the stranger says, pulling back his hood; it is a wild orlan, but his fur is brushed, and he has a perfectly trimmed dark-brown beard.

Eidis has never seen him, but they must have passed each other by, because she recognizes his presence, if not his looks.

“I was hoping some of Lady Webb’s agents survived as well,” she replies, gesturing towards a lone table in the corner; she can almost hear her companions’ sighs of relief when they notice the certainty in her voice.

The orlan smiles, and then sweeps her a very courtly bow that looks very out of place in a village inn; not on him, though. “Islwyn of the Dunryd Row, at your service.” He welcomes her like a diplomat, and yet introduces himself like a Glanfathan, mentioning the Row as if was – had been – his tribe.

They sit at the empty table, and up close Eidis can see that underneath the dark, dusty cloak his robes are fine and embroidered with strange runes at the hems; she recognizes Engwithan words for strength and lightning and thought – or perhaps soul.

“You know of...” she breaks off, not sure how to tell that odd man that his mentor is dead... and then it dawns on her he must know, must have learnt of it somehow if he greeted her in such words as he did.

“Of Lady Webb’s demise? Yes, I do.” His tone is grave, and although he is very calm, there is a shadow of genuine, deep sorrow in his eyes. “We have our ways,” he adds as an explanation, then looks into Eidis’ face. “She expected it might happen,” he says without preamble, getting straight to the point. “I was to find you and to warn you. For a moment, you had me worried that it’s too late.”

“It... was close,” she admits. Was it really, she wonders, recalling the Ducal Palace and Thaos’ sudden change of mind.

If Islwyn glimpses any of that, he gives no indication. “Too close. For all of us.” His lips tighten into a thin line for a moment. “A great loss for the city.” Somehow, it is clear he is speaking of Lady Webb.

“I am sorry,” Eidis says softly. “For your loss as well.”

The orlan thanks her with a smile. “You are as kind-hearted as people say.” Then he shakes his head lightly, and that is as much as he needs to gets his bearings back – just a breath. “She was my mentor and a good friend, but she’d lived past her time and used each day well, and she died as she lived – her own way. There is no reason to grieve for her. Defiance Bay, however, is another matter.”

“How much do you know?”

“Enough. New, gossip, whispers, educated guesses... But I’d be... Well, not glad, but certainly grateful to learn about everything that’s happened from a witness.” He notices she is a little taken aback by his reaction. “I cannot change the past,” he says openly. “But with enough information, I can shape the present to change the future. And I will.” For a moment, his teeth gleam in the dim light as he almost snarls, and suddenly it is very easy to believe he was born and brought up among the tribes of Eir Glanfath; he will serve his community first and foremost, and he will hunt down a threat without hesitation, but he will gladly take a chance at personal vengeance if the two are not mutually exclusive. “Oh, yes, I will.”

* * *

They talk for hours. Islwyn is well aware she is in a hurry, but careful preparation is vital, and plans need to be made while there is still someone around to make them, as he says with a wry smile; perfectly aware of his mortality but unconcerned by it, seeing himself as a resource. Eidis tells him all about the animancy hearings, the Duc’s and Lady Webb’s deaths, the riots; and he tells her that he was sent to Twin Elms to look out for the Leaden Key, and was on his way back to report in; and he is quietly, fiercely proud of his mentor when he learns that Lady Webb managed to wring the necessary information from Thaos’ mind.

“I will go with you,” he says. Then he notices the look on her face. “Lady Eidis, let me go with you,” he implores, his eyes blazing. He will serve his tribe – what remains of it – but he takes this one case personally.

“I can’t.” Eidis shakes her head. “Lady Webb would want you to live. She...”

“Is dead,” he interrupts; a brief flare of temper under the otherwise cool exterior. “And I will see it to the end, mine or _his_.” A breath, and he is calm once more, as if that little outburst never happened. “There’s more of us; most of the field agents like me are fine, and some of those from the city escaped and are in hiding. If not me, there will be another.” He takes a breath. “And if we succeed, I will perhaps ask you to grant the Dunryd Row sanctuary in Caed Nua. But not before that.”

When she looks into his eyes, Islwyn lets her glimpse his soul, and Eidis recalls the battle of Yenwood Field and she thinks she can understand. He chose a home and it was taken away from him; she did the same when someone tried to take Caed Nua from her. She has no right to refuse him. And if he was Lady Webb’s apprentice, he might be useful for a number of reasons.

“I will be glad of your company,” she answers honestly. “But you should know...”

Islwyn looks at her calmly. “It’s obvious you don’t want to fight. But when you will face Thaos again, he will give you no choice.”

Eidis briefly closes her eyes and swallows a sigh; underneath the table, her hand curls into a fist so tightly that her nails pierce the skin. “I have to stop him,” she whispers in a hollow voice; she had to kill even though she had never wanted to do so, she destroyed the souls at Heritage Hill for the sake of the city that was burning when she left, but now... now it is personal. “I know that. I will do that... Whatever it takes.”

A hand covered in short fur touches hers. “I am sorry, Lady Eidis.” His eyes and face are kind, but there is determination underneath and she cannot fault him for it. “I am sorry it had to be you.” He smiles gently. “Dyrwood will never know how grateful it should be that it’s you.”

He reminds her of Lady Webb and of Tegwen and of Invar, and of other people who are nothing alike... And yet he is all those different shards melded together seamlessly.

“You’re...” she begins, then falls silent, not sure how to put it into words that would not offend him.

“Odd?” Islwyn laughs, genuinely amused, then shrugs. “You know, in Defiance Bay many still call me a filthy orlan. And in Twin Elms many still call me a filthy traitor. But I walk both those places and no one stops me.” He looks at her again. “We are alike in one aspect, Lady Eidis. We are crossroads. Always divided. But I will tell you a secret that very few find even though it is not hidden: it means we lead to many roads and always have a choice.”


End file.
